Vanity. Lucy Lord
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Название: Vanity
Автор: Lucy Lord
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Приключения: прочее
isbn: 9780007441754
isbn:
Sweet girl. Sweet life.
But she was a little bit hungry now. Natalia needed her pineapple, mango and green tea in the morning. She laughed to herself as she recalled what hunger used to be, when she would devour bread because there was nothing else. These idiots with their intolerances. Bread and milk were the staff of life when you had that perpetual gnawing hunger pain. The self-indulgence of pampered Western women, claiming they were intolerant to wheat or ‘dairy’ made her quite sick. However, she had adapted, and realized that by cutting them out, she could keep the remarkably slender frame she’d had since her teens. Her stomach was as flat as it had ever been.
Natalia caught sight of her reflection in one of the shiny glass doors leading out from her bedroom. With her white-blonde hair tied back loosely, her skin nearly baby-soft, wiped clean of make-up with Eve Lom cleanser, she looked much younger than she normally did, with the tight ponytail and diamonds. Comfortable in her pistachio-green silk chiffon French knickers and camisole, she stretched her legs out on the marble-topped table, admiring their length.
Natalia was almost entirely without vanity. Her body had served its purpose and she regarded it with fond objectivity. Without it, none of this would have been possible. Even though they were no longer necessary, old habits died hard, and she was scrupulous in her body’s maintenance, even enduring painful Brazilian waxes when she couldn’t remember the last time anybody had seen her влагалище. For Natalia, love, or even sex for pleasure, was not an option. She had a vibrator to cater for such needs and had never had any reason to view men with anything but fear, suspicion, and a very canny eye for the main chance.
Thinking again about the old days, she rang the bell and asked for a croissant. What the hell. Wheat intolerances be damned – she could afford to indulge herself once in a while. She looked out at the wonderful view. Several yachts were floating on the deep-blue sea, their sails whiter than white against the horizon. Maybe she should buy a yacht? They were very expensive, of course, but her finances were in pretty good order now. She threw back her head and laughed with sheer joy. Not only had she escaped, but now she had this!
‘Señora?’
Natalia turned around to accept her breakfast platter.
The dark-eyed waiter grinned, exposing three gold teeth, and suddenly she knew that this happiness was not here to stay.
‘Georgiou? Is it really you? What you want? You want money? I haf plenty money,’ she said in slightly broken English – it happened when she was thrown off kilter, which wasn’t often these days.
‘I know,’ he said in Russian.
Trying to stay cool, Natalia walked slowly inside to find her Chanel handbag, where she always kept 2,000 US dollars, in case of emergencies. This was one emergency that, after the initial years, she had prayed would never occur. As she took the notes out, several fluttered from her trembling hands. The dark-eyed waiter watched as she bent to retrieve them. She knew he was loving every minute of her cowed subservience.
‘Please, take them, Georgie, and never come back.’
He smiled again. Never had gold teeth looked so repulsive.
‘Talia, I thank you. But I’ll be back.’
Chapter 3
Ben Jones walked naked to his large American fridge and cracked open a Bud. It tasted like piss, but he was prepared to put up with weak beer when he considered the compensations.
He’d just been for a run along the beach at Malibu Colony. He’d been in LA for two months now and still couldn’t get over the babes and endless sunshine. Today (like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that) would have been the best day of summer back home; any one of the girls he’d met during his run would have been the best-looking babe in London. Wales wasn’t comparable, on either count.
He was used to hanging out with models and actresses, but they were a completely different breed here in California. The edginess/quirkiness/kookiness (take your pick) so prized by the coolest London model agencies would be greeted here with absolute bemusement. If anything fell short of cookie-cutter perfection, the little darlings just went and got it fixed.
Without even trying, he’d picked up a fistful of colourful business cards during his run. He picked a few off the breakfast bar and laughed.
I’m Carrie (heart drawn above the i). Actress, model, spiritual healer. Call me!
Melissa – I do pedicures and aura cleansing. Let me make you beautiful, inside AND out! Sole and soul!
Jennifer Jackson. Nutritionist and personal trainer.
He turned over the last one to see the photo (they all had photos on the back) and recalled the mixed-race girl with a wide smile, dreadlocks and body to die for. He’d actually stopped for a few seconds to watch her arse as she sauntered off in the sand. Then he’d jogged back to the rented clapboard beach house his agent had found for him. He put Jennifer Jackson’s card to one side – she might be worth a booty call.
Beautiful, and vain as hell, Ben walked over to the floor-to-ceiling mirror that lined the far wall of his open-plan living space. His floppy gold-streaked light brown fringe, still a little damp from the shower, grazed his long black eyelashes. His pink pouty lips, delicious blue eyes and high cheekbones had made him such a hit back home that he had managed to acquire an LA agent almost without trying.
People Like Us, the UK sitcom whose first series he had starred in, had been a runaway success and attracted the interest of Belinda Hyman, one of the most notoriously hard-bitten agents in Hollywood. He was contracted to star in three series of People Like Us, and due to start filming the next in a few months’ time, but if he landed a movie role – well. Belinda wasn’t known as the Bitch of Beverly Hills for nothing.
Ben flexed a muscle or two and smiled in satisfaction.
Looking good, boyo. Occasionally, the Welsh accent resurfaced, though only in his head.
‘Benny, honey? Baby’s getting lonely,’ called a very young voice from his bedroom.
He smiled again, focusing on his newly whitened teeth, as he recalled the cheerleader he’d picked up at the game last night. Sweet seventeen and definitely been fucked. He’d been to watch the LA Lakers with a couple of fellow ex-pats and this fantastic specimen of perky blonde near-jailbait had – well – just thrown herself at him. No other way of putting it. He did love California, despite the weak beer.
But during his run, his mind had been on Bella, Poppy and Damian, all of whom he’d comprehensively shafted the previous year. Ben wasn’t one for an enormous amount of introspection, but even he felt bad about what he’d done.
Bella had been great to start with – fun and sexy, with a healthy appetite for all the good things in life. But once they had that horrible intimacy thing going, she got so bloody needy, and the way she gazed at him with those huge hurt brown eyes made him feel guilty as fuck, especially when he’d shagged the odd model on the odd shoot (a man’s prerogative, he’d always felt – or at least an accepted perk of the job). As an angelic-looking only child, Ben had been spoilt rotten his СКАЧАТЬ